Four years old
and they found her like that
a crumpled heap of grief in the shade
a crown of poverty bruised her head
hunger leaned into her cheeks
and the scrappings of her dress
held together thin bones
locked in fear
Someone forgot the child tonight
and didn’t come home
didn’t see how she fed herself
on the absence
of mother and father
how her posture curled […]
when I marvel at your feet, soft and velvet-heeled
how the narrowness of them settled into thin places of the world
only to come this great distance
through universe and cloud
prayer and benediction
to find themselves planted in the afternoon
of this ripe season of my life
will you know I mean you
when I lean into the tall stance of […]
count seven gardens in your yard
hard-boil solid in your black boots
grown straight from dirt
flower-peppered dresses
for everyday of your week
for shade, babushkas
the colours of pysankas
cheeks varnished round
smooth as egg shells
laughter
the clucking of hens
~ Patricia Sinclair
Patti Sinclair is published with Palabras Press, Synchronicity, The Prairie Journal, ditch, and ascent magazine, and is the forthcoming featured writer in […]
red barn
with wide hips
deep in the bales
have heydays of dreams
we marry brothers
so our families can stay forever
twined
where kittens of wild cats
hang stubborn to dried cords,
you cut them off-
these places that save us
and the horses-
learn to ride western, bareback
it was this, or religion
places of hiding places
this quarter-section
you wish never to leave
and return to city-house
where one has […]
i met him in his home town
(one of those generic chinese industrial towns
where they make plastic army men and fake
dog vomit and drink whatever petro-chemicals
they don’t inhale)
he was half my age and height but he had a ball
and was enamored by the notion of seeing a white man jump
so we played basketball for three days […]
